


The Blood Is The Life

by gatherer_of_dust



Category: Dracula - Bram Stoker
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Dracula - Freeform, Lesbian Sex, Mild Gore, Multi, Porn With Plot, The Harkers are weak for vampires, Vampire Turning, Vampirism, bram stoker - Freeform - Freeform, lots of blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2020-11-24 16:36:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20910752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatherer_of_dust/pseuds/gatherer_of_dust
Summary: Jonathan Harker encounters the enthralling and terrifying Count Dracula while staying in his frightening castle that he finds full of secrets and esoteric whispers as maddening as the hum of flies.Dracula and Jonathan form a bond of blood that defies death, and find a dark solace in one another within the cavernous jaws of the vampire’s homeMina grows increasingly anxious in the absence of her beloved Jonathan, but finds comfort in other places closer to her bosom than she might expect - and far more dangerous. The illustrious Lucy Westenra is adored by all men - and monsters - and is more than Mina ever bargained for.





	1. The Hospitality of The Count Conquers Our Harker's Mortality

The Count had been as courteous as he was curious; he begrudged me no comforts. That was - with the extravagant meals prepared and set before me from the cryptic kitchens, of which he did not partake save for a glass of wine (of which I had not secured a location when in need of some morsel to satisfy my hunger, although the Count always was eager to provide when I showed the slightest sign of wanting), the plush and well-decorated room with a soft, four poster bed - of which we made great use - access to the abundance of materials to study and read in his vast library of papers and books, and entertainments of his own with stimulating conversation, interesting stories, and romantic bits of writings of his own. He did not go without including the pleasures of the night - those darker, carnal cravings that a man must satisfy by his nature, and by nature’s necessity - and he fulfilled all of my needs with obliging expertise and conscious knowledge.  
Count Dracula was nothing if not mysterious, for which he made up in being nothing if not hospitable as well - all of which made for en exceptionally seductive, exciting host. I experienced a rather illogical arousal by his formality, and by his somewhat sinister appeal. The howling of the wolves, and the flashing of lightning against the craggy walls and ghoulish spires of his strange castle evoked a primal fervor, and there was a sort of ghostly feel about the rooms that gave me a chill alike to being watched - all of this only increased my titillation.  
I must confess that I was quite charmed by the man. 

While I had been greeted by an odd older gentleman upon my arrival at the castle, he had promptly disappeared that night, and the next morning I had come to know the elegant young Count Dracula - no one had told me of his being so young and inexplicably fair! - who entertained both my journalism and - catered more to - my own personal interests.  
He possessed long, thick dark locks that fell about his shoulders and hung about his luminous, pale-complexioned face in a sultry sort of way. His cheekbones were so sharp one might cut himself on them, and his incisors sharper - a pearly white for his teeth, the canines protruding slightly over those lusty, bright red lips. His eyes were a curious dark sanguine color, almost the color of rich blood in contrast with the tantalizing vermilion mouth. The flashes of white fangs amused me, and I felt an ache of yearning often when they made their appearance - which they had a tendency to do undeliberately during, after, or even before any erotic encounter. He would always look abashed when he caught himself in the act of baring his teeth - which I found quite baffling - and would shake his head thoroughly while apologising and bowing politely as he would exit the room backwards, cloak wrapped around him tightly to hide his body, head inclined with shame.  
I often pondered about that - but alas, he was a wondrous fellow. I was his prisoner and his guest, and I could not hope to solve the mystery of the elusive Count Dracula. I did not even want to anymore, despite my reason for being here. My journalism could wait a thousand years - I felt that I had that time with him, perhaps much more than that.  
\- Jonathan Harker Satisfied, Harker closed his diary, feeling almost as if he were writing a letter of confession to God. But alas, there were no gods in here, Jonathan knew.  
“Late night journaling, Mister Harker?” The Count stood in the doorway, taking up the passage with his entire frame.  
“I’ve read your letters, all of them, I will not deceive you. But i’m terribly bored with it, i’m afraid. It is of my great interest to know what it is that you write in that book of yours - what thoughts course through your pretty head when i’m not around.”  
Of course, Jonathan suspected that Dracula could, in fact, by some mysterious means, obtain knowledge of his thoughts at any time or location, though the notion that he could read minds seemed absurd.  
“Jonathan,” He advanced slowly pausing over his desk to pour the wine. “You look awfully pale, does something worry you? Here, drink.” He pressed the cup to Jonathan’s lips, watching him with relish. Not for a moment, however, did Dracula lose control. Not until he noticed the cut from the razor on his beloved’s pale and clean-shaven cheek, still fresh from earlier that night, when he had shown such brave restraint, gripping Harker’s jaw and sliding the blade across his face with precision, never once entertaining the idea of sliding the razor sideways and slitting the soft, fine flesh of his exquisite features and watching the fragrant blood trickle like a tear down his face.  
The Count knew that he must make his advances on Jonathan the human way, if he wanted to get his hands on his blood, or, his lips. Such a thing had always worked with women, achieving such intimate a draught as the tender human held him to their neck desperately, loving it. 

“Dear god...V-Vlad…” Jonathan murmured weakly, his core burning. He didn’t know how it had happened, or how quickly, but with the vampire’s irresistible charms he had found himself yielding willingly, sprawled on the freshly made bed.  
He clutched feebly at the Count’s powerful shoulders, groping along and grasping his collar, and pulling his mouth to his. Jarringly, the Count stopped himself from leaning into the kiss - uncanny white teeth displayed and eyes half-lidded with lust - and wrenched himself from his lover’s body, extracting himself from the ardent embrace and from within Harker - which left the one wincing in an almost emotional pain and the other with faint moans.  
The vampire’s amorous gaze quickly morphed into sheer terror, and as he flinched away from the vulnerable man beneath him he bit his lower lip, seemingly agonized. Those influential scarlet eyes burned with a profound and undying flame, his nostrils flared and his whole body trembling. Jonathan soon discovered that it was no longer with fear that this inhuman man shook, but with a desolate thirst.  
“My dear Jonathan.” His voice had assumed an unnaturally smooth fluidity - haunted by husky undertones - for his physical state of tremor. His eyes half-closed and his carmine lips parted once again with a glint of those pointed, conical fangs.  
“What is it, Count? Why did you stop?....” Harker now sounded somewhat recovered and professional, though longing still clung to the syllables.  
Dracula’s infernal stare and ravenous mouth frightened him, he realized. “It is time. I believe that you believe you are here for more than one purpose, now. Perhaps only one…”  
“Yes,” Jonathan breathed. “I know what it is you speak of, Dracula. Please, I beg you, do the thing you fear I would most abhor. Do the unspeakable, in the name of your god. God is blood, and I want to worship him, too. Let me walk with you, tonight and forevermore.”  
“As you wish.” The wistful vampire leaned in with half-lidded scarlet eyes and rubious lips parted slightly, but paused in his fervor for a tremulous moment, hovering over the prone victim of his adoration. The two sharp incisors pierced the sweet crook of Harker’s throbbing neck, and he moaned softly into the ravenous Count’s pointed ear, grasping a fistful of his luxurious dark curls as Vlad rocked him gently, tilting Jonathan’s head to bare his jugular vein, his lips pressed ferociously to the sacred place, his young, fresh new shrine of worship to an ancient god, his tongue laving the delicate, flushed flesh in a mess of gore and slaver. Drawing his lips away from the niche, the vampire crushed his bloody lips to the other’s full, pink mouth, veins pumping through insistently and begging to be sucked dry. Harker was flushed with golden waves of euphoria, and yet his face was drawn and wan, gasping for breath and entangling his hands in his lover’s hair. The beautiful villain stroked his darling Harker’s thick, clipped, short, light brown hair with one dangerously clawed hand, as carefully and lovingly as a parent, his eyes glowing, fervent furnaces of supernatural passion.  
He was a phantasm on top of the boyish lawyer, who was now completely exposed and weak, his clean, composed character destroyed, his self forgotten, lost to immortal pleasures.  
“I would drain your very soul and join it with mine, if I gave over entirely to my instincts which implore me to have all of you, but my reason desires your companionship, and I know that my depleting of you would be only a momentary gratification. My eternal conscience denies this also everlasting flesh in an epic battle, while your life courses through my veins and intoxicates me, for this nebulous, substance, of hunting and endurance and shadows, requires a mate, and the heart, too, has needs.  
All that Jonathan could respond was a slow “yes” and a muffled cry.

When he was finished, he gently withdrew from his tender neck, and drew one sharp fingernail along his own white, ghostly wrist. Harker drank deeply from the junction, mouth greedy and eyes shut in sinful bliss. “Harker.” The vampire spoke huskily, the lust in his voice edged with grim severity. He did not betray the excruciating pain that vampires experienced on being drank from, besides biting his lower lip tensely and shuddering slightly. But Harker pursued avidly, and the startled Count had to struggle for regaining his custody over his own arm, which dripped now with his deep, rich blood. He glared down his aquiline nose at Jonathan, nostrils yet again dilated and quivering, mouth exhibiting vivid ivory fangs. “You must be taught to be submissive to the overwhelming greater powers before you can ever advance and be accepted into this immortal life. You must first experience total domination over your mind, body, and soul. I am sure you have experienced some of each - but this experience is, all together, not so bearable to many who have undergone this in our history. Tonight, we shall write a fresh chapter.” The word ‘fresh’ seemed to be stressed in a particularly stimulating manner - thick with thirst.  
The Count fixed Harker with his most compelling of stares, those brilliant red eyes striking deep into his soul. Jonathan’s own body was beginning to change, convulsing with the pains of transformation, and yet his limbs were slack with assent. The sudden, involuntary acquiescence frightened Harker; how he could not move his joints, his muscles relaxed entirely and his brain roaring with ecstasy as though he were drugged.  
The Count dabbed at his mate’s lips with a silk scarf, and tied it neatly around his neck, bound off in a little bow. His deft hands then quickly traveled down his partner’s bloodstained shirt, which he released him of capably and quickly, his soaked collar already unbuttoned and displaying his clean, hairless, well-cut chest. Harker was robust and youthful, strong beyond his imagination, and it frustrated him terribly that he could not exert himself even a little, but was entirely incapacitated to fulfill the wishes of the monster that had made him.  
His shirt removed, his bare shoulders and tight stomach rising and falling slightly, the count then began to strip him of his trousers.  
The love that swelled in Harker’s soul and possessed his body, it was an immortal feeling that outlasted his undying body, an eternal flame sparked in him that endured with his flesh until the farthest reaches of time. His existence was now unfathomable and beautiful, and he no longer felt vulgar when Dracula touched him, but cleansed. He did not dare move beneath the master of his essence, captive to this majestic being that had made him, this incredible dark angel.  
“My beautiful Harker, my immortal, my pure child, my perfect creation. You of my kind, of my blood that courses embedded through your hot veins in your ravishing dead flesh.” He stroked his thick, glossy hair and his soft lips gently, and the silk of his strong, lean thighs. He moved his hands up to his chest, and ran a single razor-sharp finger down to his navel from between his collarbones. The purple and blue bruises on Jonathan’s neck and swollen lips were already beginning to disappear.  
His hand moved under his white linen drawers, where a thatch of of brown hair sprouted up his abdomen. His cotton shirt was open and partially covering his mostly bare arms, but Vlad would not have this. He swiftly stripped off the rest of his clothes and marveled at his naked lover’s dazzling body. Overcome with passion, Vlad quite forgot his previous affliction of age that had been lingering in his limbs since being newly replenished, and his athletic young form descended on Jonathan with wanton kisses and gripping caresses, eliciting moans from the youthful immortal, whose hair was now claiming all of its lustre and pale skin all of its supple beauty.  
Slowly, without haste, the Count slid two fingers inside of Harker, gently enough so as not to hurt him with his perennial strength. There was an eruption of cries of pleasure as he squirmed beneath the vampire, thrusting into his hand with vigor. He was so blindly eager, with his sweet, soft little whimpers and his pink tongue still lapping at the blood on Dracula’s quickly mending wrist.  
“...Vlad,” he whined as the Count began to plunge his fingers in and out of him, deft and quick with each movement as he explored the warm wetness of his hole, ravaging him between his young thighs and stroking his hair lovingly. Then, swiftly and with little warning, the Count moved the hand that was buried in Jonathan’s hair down his writhing form, back arching away from the sheets as he touched on his intimate spot hidden deep inside of him in a place entirely uncharted, and began to apply ministrations also to his twitching erection, which could not go unnoticed in its urgency. He moved his single hand up and down on Jonathan’s cock from the base to the head, tightening with every course to an unendurable intensity.  
“Oh...god! Vlad...I need you to, ah, god, put your...ah!...mouth on it.” Jonathan clutched the sheets in his now powerful grip, and as the Count’s clever digits were drawn soaking out of him, he crooned so quietly and convulsed agonizingly.  
Slowly, deliberately, the Count wrapped his red mouth around Harker’s hard, pink cock and covered his fangs with his lips, sliding them down to the base so that he had taken Jonathan’s manhood full in his mouth. Exclamations flew from Harker’s lips, endless strings of meaningless words as he nearly sat up in thrill.

Then, he slid his mouth off of Harker’s standing member, and flipped them both easily, bringing him down to straddle his hips with his naked thighs, grinding against Vlad’s clothed erection. Jonathan greedily undid the Count’s trousers, stripping them off of his body and divesting him of his jacket and waistcoat, slowly and deliberately undoing his cravat and unbuttoning his shirt, drawing circles around his nipples with his already sharpening nails, and then putting his mouth there, gentle at first, then bruising the spot, then drawing blood soon enough Harker was drinking from the vampire’s chest, and Dracula, though he did not feel carnal pleasure, staged his desperation, tangling his claws in Harker’s brown hair and calling his name, making such a convincing performance that Jonathan didn’t care whether or not it was real.  
Soon, however, the Count grew uneasy with the unlikely dominance that Harker was exercising on him, his creator. He found that he did not like it anymore, despite his surging pride, growing impatient, and though his cock was nearly useless for anything but domination, it tented his drawers and wetted his thighs insistently, and could not go unnoticed. Dracula flipped his boy lover over once more, until Harker was on his hands and knees, and the Count wasted no time, slicking his hands in oil and teasing his tight entrance with the tip of his index finger, but finding it unsatisfactory, despite Harker’s grunts. He spread his thighs and cheeks and buried his face in the hot wetness, lightly touching his tongue to the hole and wiggling it with its tip, stroking the length of his stiffened cock with his hand and the world between Jonathan’s thighs with his tongue, finally pushing it through, eliciting soft whines as the boy clutched the covers and buried his face in the pillow, only raising his arse more to level with Count Dracula’s face. After rubbing the tip of his prick for the last time, Vlad moved his hands slowly up Harker’s muscular thighs, touching him all the way until his clever fingers found his arse, and he prodded once more, finally working one inside and moving it around a little inside him, where it was burning and moist and slowly loosening to allow a second finger, and then a third, faster and faster pumping his digits in and out of him as Jonathan’s spasming hands scrabbled for the sheets, and he had lodged his face so deeply in the pillow that his hitched and halting breathing was stifled.  
Dracula withdrew his dripping fingers from Harker, finally discarding the linen boxers and stroking his own cock before bringing it to his lover’s entrance, making him gasp before it even plunged into him, sheathed all the way to the base, his balls pushed up against Jonathan’s arse, as he arched his back and cried out, sounding very much like a whore.  
Swarms of ecstasy like the strains of thousands of violins surround the lovers, and it was then that the Count bestowed his seed on the earnest young immortal.

Jonathan felt different when he awoke, and he was not sore as he had expected. In fact, his legs felt great, fit for running a marathon, his body rejuvenated and yet his thirst was greater than ever, a burning pit inside him that was desperate to be filled with the sweet blood of men.  
The Count arose, and Jonathan realized to his horror that he had spent the entire day in a coffin with Dracula, and that it was now the eve of the next night. Ah, but what did it matter, when he had all the time in the world?  
My sweet Jonathan. Now that you have learned obedience, it is time that you learn how to hunt.

\---------------

I discovered that there was, in fact, a sort of tenderness within me, and I retained it well. I kindled and nurtured that violent, spectral flame, that was now a bruised and scarred creature as it rose, and finally it let out a distorted, mangled cry, and proclaimed an insane love that would thunder across the world and kill every passion and every soul that described it. I had founded a maniac, voracious beast.  
As the innocent child grows into its animalistic desires, and the graceful angel of death is but a kinder extension of God, who is wanton and cruel, so it is that my supernatural rapture was rampant in every vein.  
I pictured his brains scattered on the flagstones, flinging him like a toy from the battlements with my supernatural strength. But I knew that it was a ridiculous fantasy, to prevail over the father of monsters who had given this power to me. I knew also that I would not last, as the dim light lined the horizon each morning and bid me flee to below the earth. I would expire like the sun soon enough.  
Yet I could not go quietly and liberate the world from my predatory grasp, and I would continue to feed on the children, and be the terrible monster that I was made to be, and play my part until she was safe from him. I had it in me to kill, but I also possessed a power to protect those that I loved. I would not let her fall to the same miserable fate as mine.

\- Lucy Westenra

Her raven tresses billowed in the breeze and the flickering, sputtering candlelight, as she flipped through the faded pages of Lucy's diary. Her face was bathed in a golden glow, her mortal, soft, fragrant skin like the petals of a lily, pulsing with warm blood that coursed through her delicate, flower-stem veins. Her flower that bloomed beneath her skirts and petticoats, and the two full roses that were her breasts, and the scarlet petals that were her mouth, and the beautiful, warm brown chrysanthemums that blossomed in her amber eyes, and the deathly, striking orchid that was her brave little heart; Lucy wanted the whole bouquet. She would strip her of every petal, Mina knew this.  
And yet she longed for the charming, illustrious, sensuous vampire bride of luscious death to take her in her white arms and cradle her head in those blackened claws, and bestow on her the sweet, treacherous vampire kiss. It was not romantic, this dream, or sophisticated in any way. It was wild and animal, this pure and agonizing lust. But at the same time, it was not just that ancient longing of mortals for the overpowering, compelling vampire.  
Mina had always harbored a deep affection for her beautiful friend, for the kind girl who had always offered her a home, and had always made her feel at home in her presence when they played, gabbled vivaciously as they ran all over Lucy’s boundless property full of adventures, and talked pensively of faraway worlds they had read of in books while sitting by one of the large and picturesque windows, drinking tea and cramming their mouths with cakes. And still, she had loved her just the same, painfully so, as she watched that little girl prance off with strange and dazzling, foolish men, so blissfully oblivious to their darker natures. She would only be mortally wounded.  
But alas, it was not a man that had taken from Mina her beloved Lucy, but a monster that befell her on that one fateful night, when Mina had followed Lucy out into the garden in her sleepwalking trance, and helpless, she watched the beast take her, bite her neck, and dissolve into a faint green vapor that enthralled the senses as it passed and dissipated into the night.

Mina had watched from aside as Lucy doomed herself to her own ruin, and had tried tenderly and lovingly to coax her friend away from the inevitable despair. But the despair found Lucy first, and the ecstasy of it, too. It had been awful, truly, to watch her friend suffer, but the supernatural process had been riveting to watch.  
Now, every evening, Mina was finding new entries in her diary that were not written in her own hand, but the unforgettable, flowery cursive of Lucy’s. They were personal, fond, amorous accounts of memories from their past, written as though it were the present, and she was still that foolish, sweet little girl with so many delicious fantasies floating about in her darling head, now all of them about Mina.  
However, tonight, Mina had discovered the newest record to be entirely current, and in the mind of the vampire that she had always known prowled at night around the grounds and fed on young children. Mina had denied that Lucy was moving about in the night, animated as though she were alive, thinking and feeling but not quite of a human nature, but that of a half bloodsucking predator, and half walking ghost of memories of former affections and pains, condemned forever to haunt and be haunted.  
“Mina. Do not fear me, please. You know that I have always loved you too painfully to give you that final kiss of death, that I have been only allowing myself modest tastes of you each night, my sweet, my secret treasure. And yet you know that I have been feeding on you, slowly, every night, when you find one of my musings in your journal, and yet you do nothing to stop me...why?” She stood in the doorway, serene and pale as death itself, and yet with a fullness to her red lips and a slight pinkish color to her otherwise stark white cheeks, her hair practically glowing and immortally groomed beyond the capabilities of an undertaker, smelling clean and fresh, her body as youthful and lithe as it had been in life. And yet she looked so peaceful, it appeared almost as if she were wrapped up in some novel dream from her childhood.

“Lucy! Wake up, please...you’re dreaming, Lucy!” She clutched the other girl’s lacy white collar as the entranced sleepwalker drew slowly closer, her warm breath flickering and touching Mina’s flushed cheeks. All the blood that had risen under the soft white skin was enough to drive Lucy mad with lust, the blush of life shading her face with a violent color and spreading to the sweetness of her neck. Her glossy, velvet black locks pooled about her and spilled over the pillow, and Lucy - eyes glazed over still in a bewitched state - stroked the silken midnight hair lovingly before gently sweeping it aside and baring Mina’s pale throat.  
There were soft moans as two pointed fangs pierced the lily-white and soft skin of her neck, the veins pulsing with ardent life, the vermilion lips sucking the essence from her yielding body. One delicate wrist pinned next to her pacific, doll-like head, porcelain skin, proportionately jointed limbs, the fullness of her pink-tinted breasts that swelled with womanly passion, the feminine art of her delicate frame, given over like a flower to the intellect and the soul, and pleasing softness designing a picturesque frame; even when they were innocent, gamesome little girls, before her vampiric condition, the illustrious Lucy Westenra had always found her pretty, studious friend to be irresistible.  
To her, vampirism was an as avante-garde idea as polyamory was, expressly artistic to her now, what had once been so disconcerting and horrific. There is an ecstasy in every horror, for it is the drunkenness of our nature, intoxicated by the shadows that lurk in the twilit realms of our souls.

Her eyes shone like moons catching the sun’s light, her breath was perfumed with roses, and her coy smiles flashed like coins in a fish pond. Her lips were full and rubious, her brown eyes colored a deep sanguine shade. Her skin was dazzlingly white, like snow on a stark winter’s day, and her cheeks were flushed with undead vitality and vivacity.  
Her breasts were round and soft, and the slight pink of her nipples rose above the blue corset, swarmed with white lace trimming and her shoulders naked and white. Lucy gazed reverently over her companion’s prone yet indestructible new body, enhanced in its deathless beauty. “Immortal lover, you are to be by my side until the end of times.”  
“So...it was never Count Dracula?” Mina asked in a newly confident, slightly incredulous voice. Lucy laughed softly. The sound was like the tinkling of bells and the everlasting waters of the river of blood.  
“No, dear one.” Already Lucy was consumed distractedly with undoing the laces of Mina’s jade green corset.


	2. Mina and Lucy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexy Mina and Lucy times, plus Mina is now a vampire so they're immortal wives
> 
> Also I know that Mina's hair is blonde in the book but I couldn't resist dark haired Mina, plus I forgot about her lovely blonde locks and it's too late now. But hey at least I remembered the hair color change for Lucy after she became a vampire (it's really quite strange and has no explanation but it's cool)

As Lucy helped Mina slip confusedly out of her clothes, the two of them moved towards the bed with its multitude of soft pillows and comfortable covers. It was a luxurious bed, really. That was because it was Lucy’s bed. Or, at least it had been, until Lucy’s new home became a coffin. Now it was Mina who slept in it, which was odd, since she had no apparent reason for doing so. She explained that she simply missed her “friend”, but not even Quincey was buying it. Not that any of them raised any eyebrows around each other. They were perfectly quiet, and so was everyone in the house that night as Lucy fingered at the buttons of Mina’s frilly white chemise, slowly opening it to expose her fairly large, shapely breasts. Tenderly, she pushed back the collar and exposed her friend’s lily white shoulders, and even though she had just been satiated on Mina’s blood seconds ago, her thirst was renewed at the sight of her exposed skin.

Lucy’s long hair flowed over her own shoulders, the bridal veil creating a sheen over the warm brown curls, Lucy’s dark eyes burning with desire rather than “hell fire”, scarlet on her lips and a trail of red down her porcelain jaw. Her eyes were so luminous that they drove Mina crazy, and Mina’s own long, lovely dark locks were captivating to Lucy as much as they were in their girlhood, when she used to play with her friend’s pretty hair. Lucy gently cupped Mina’s full, rosy breasts and began to massage them slowly, deliberately rubbing her thumbs in circles around her pink buds, her eyes glowing and her slightly ajar, displaying her sharp white fangs. She leaned down and flicked her tongue over one of Mina’s nipples and then punctured the soft flesh with her teeth. Then she pulled away and moved her hands down to Mina’s bloomers, pulling them over her hips and wiggling it all the way off of her feet, letting it fall on the floor at the foot of her bed. Mina gasped as Lucy’s hot, warm tongue made contact with her clit immediately, delving between the lips and running up and down between her legs, wetness trickling down her inner thigh, and Lucy licked up her thigh to catch the drop, then tentatively poking her tongue inside of her. Mina’s clammy hands gripped the sheets and she moaned a little, making Lucy grin devilishly where her friend couldn’t see her. She explored her hot insides with her tongue, and then began moving her tongue in and out of her until she pulled away, a string of cum like a cobweb attached to her tongue. She wiped her lips.

“My, I could get a taste for that.” She laughed. “Almost as good as blood.” Mina noticed that Lucy’s fingernails had been shortened since she last looked into her coffin. Before she knew what was coming, two fingers were forced into her mouth, and then taken out and rematerializing between her thighs, rubbing her clit in deft, smooth circles. “O-oh god, Lucy!” Mina cried out. Her mistake. Lucy smirked.

“Oh, there is no god here. Only the devil’s with you now.” She breathed into her face, and then plunged two fingers inside of Mina, her whole body tensing around them.

Lucy began to move them back and forth to create friction, then curling inside when they reached far enough. Mina yelled, but it was stifled by Lucy’s other hand as she began to scissor her, loosening her up for a third finger. Lucy pumped in and out of Mina so fast that the buildup of cum became unbearable quite quickly, and then, as Lucy was filling her up with all that she had, cum came gushing out all over her fist and her arm, and as she pulled out there was a vulgar noise that made even Lucy blush. Mina lay panting on the bed in no clothes, hair disheveled, face flushed. Mina noticed, however, that it was quickly becoming bloodless. Perhaps her lover was starving. Finally, after several minutes of absolute and pristine silence, Lucy spoke up.

“I’m sorry, Mina.” Lucy sobbed, tears of blood trickling down her porcelain face, biting her rubious bottom lip. “I’m so sorry…”

“What is it, Lucy?” Mina tried to wipe the sanguine drops from her friend’s face, but it only smeared red across her cheek and messed her up. With everything Mina did, she felt like she was messing up. She was supposed to be true to Jonathan.

“Jonathan, he doesn’t love you like I do. Right now, he’s been made a bride of Dracula’s. The man that he was supposed to being doing business with? Now they’ve become one, in every way. Just like I have been made his, so has he. After the incident,” she was referring to the night that she first went sleepwalking out of doors, “I couldn’t stop thinking of you…it was dreadful.”

“All this time?” Mina gazed at her, transfixed in horror, but her eyes full of both fear and love. “You’ve been draining me ever since…?” Mina said nothing, but erupted into tears that stained her gown crimson. “Oh, Lucy...you know I could never resent you, no matter what the deed. I’ve been thinking of you, too, and I think I want to be yours.” She carefully leaned in and licked the blood from Lucy’s trembling face, and instead Lucy took her face in her hands - which were caked in blood - and brought her in for a kiss. She had bitten down on her tongue while Mina was busy with trying to gain immortality with her through her tears.

“Silly Mina,” She chuckled softly in a pause in the middle of the bloody kiss. “You should know, as a schoolteacher, what constitutes tears. You won’t get anything but salt from that. Try my blood instead.” Lucy gently slid her tongue between Mina’s lips and Mina sucked hard on the pulse. Finally, when she pulled away with one final chaste kiss on the lips, they both wiped trickles of blood from their mouths and smeared it across their faces. Lucy looked like a death-white Angel, and Mina looked like a beautiful devil, strangely enough.

“You know, we should open a school together.” “A school?” “Yeah. Where we teach little children.” “You know that I go after little children to feed on, yes?” “I was thinking that we could feed on them, and then help them become like us. Wouldn’t that be fun!” “Ha, ha. Very funny, Mina.” The brunette laughed, and then began coughing. “You must let your tongue heal first, before you start talking so!” Mina scolded her. “You know, Arthur must think of me as a sex crazed demon, now. A whore painted in blood.”

“And who cares what Arthur thinks? I think that you’re beautiful. You know what else? I like your dark hair better. You were always so childish with your silly golden curls. Not that I didn’t care for you then...yes, I’ve loved you since childhood, Lucy.” “You really think so?” “Why not? And why not now? I’m going to be a vampire, just like you. I can have whatever I want, and you can have whoever you want.”

“Oh, Mina.” She sighed sadly. “You know that all I’ve ever wanted was you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Jonathan and Dracula hunt together. Basically Dracula teaches Jonathan how to kill and Jonathan teaches him to hide the bodies if he's completely drained them. Warning it might be gory and they might kill a child idk we'll see! :) 
> 
> Also Mina and Lucy are gonna go hunting, probably. But that would make Lucy and Mina's storyline too similar to Jonny and Drac's so I might change it up a bit who knows.


	3. Prey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dracula tries to teach Harker how to hunt. Harker has a few things to teach Dracula, too.

There was a bracing rush of wind blowing through the pines of the surrounding forest that bolstered Jonathan’s spirit. His dead flesh felt so powerful, unstoppable, as he stepped out into the cool night air, chilly stars looking on knowingly. Dracula stood beside him, holding his cold hand.

“My darling Jonathan. How are you feeling?” There was a touch of concern in the Count’s voice, sleek dark locks cascading down his shoulders, blood red eyes softening slightly.

“I’m marvelous, thank you. Never felt so good in my life! If only Mina could see me now, so young, so vital. She’d fall in love with me all over again.” The Count’s eyes edged on dangerous at those words, his mouth hardening into a severe line.

“Hmm...perhaps Mina shall never see you again. What would you think of that? Because the truth is, Jonathan, she must never see you. You wanted this, you chose it. I could have killed you for finding out about my secret, but instead I showed you mercy and made you mine. You want to stay with me forever, yes?”

Jonathan’s face flushed. “Oh, yes! More than anything!”

“Then leave Mina. Leave Mina and stay with me. You cannot return to her world. You do not wish to hurt her, correct? Of course not.”

“No, never!”

“I’m glad that we have similar desires. We will stay away from Mina, for her own safety, and she will be fine. You stay away from her, and so shall I.” His eyes were certainly murderous.

“With all of those men? Ah, they’re my friends! They’ll look after her. I trust them. And Miss Westenra. Especially her.” Clearly, Jonathan was heedless of Dracula’s wrath.

“Jonathan, don’t think about it.” Dracula warned.

“Alright. I suppose we should begin the hunt, then?”

“Yes. I know of a village nearby.” Dracula spoke curtly.

“Oh? How far is it?”

“Fourteen miles, I believe.”

“But we can’t possibly-”

“Harker. We must travel by flight.”

“And how would we-” Before Jonathan even finished his sentence, his feet were off of the ground and he found himself desperately beating the air with his arms to keep himself aloft. Or, they were wings! There was a black bat with squinting sanguine eyes beside him, hovering in the air with relative ease, tiny fangs protruding from its terrifying mug - actually, it was sort of cute.

He found himself following the bat - knowing that Vlad Dracula was in there somewhere, guiding him - on his unsteady wings, crossing the landscape very quickly and riding the same currents of the wind as the creature in front of him. After many trials and tribulations, Harker was able to fly without much trouble, and yet just as he was getting used to the feeling, the bat began to descend from the air, dropping below him, and he cautiously followed his example, but he ended up falling at a certain point.

Then, he realized that he had reverted back into human form too soon, and he ungracefully hit the ground with an unceremonious splat. Dracula touched down to the earth majestically, landing on his feet. Jonathan, meanwhile, lay in a battered heap beside him, several bones cracked. They healed within him, however, much, much faster that he anticipated, and he found himself able to stand upright in a matter of a minute.

“I ask again, Harker, how are you feeling?” There was a hint of laughter in his voice.

Jonathan sensed that the Count hadn’t laughed in years. “I’m...alright.” He managed. “I didn’t know that vampires healed so quickly.”

“Soon, you won’t even suffer injury from a fall like that at all. Your flesh will become like stone. Not actual stone, though, of course. And you won’t be falling from the sky, either.”

Harker’s face flushed at this. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I don’t have much practice flying, I’m afraid.”

“No, of course not. Alright, now I suppose it is time that you learn how to feed.”

“To...feed? You mean kill?” Jonathan blanched.

“Whatever you mortals like to call it.” Dracula waved his hand dismissively.

“I’m not a human anymore!” Jonathan spoke indignantly.

“Then don’t act like one. Ah, you see that house over there?” Dracula pointed a thin finger towards a log cabin hut on the outskirts of the town that was smoking from its chimney.

“Yes. Is that the one?”

“Yes. A man and a woman. No children. Unhappily married. Wouldn’t mind wiping scum like her husband off the earth, now would you? And the woman’s no better, cheating with the farmer’s boy next door. She’s pregnant. I won’t hide that from you. But the baby would be born a bastard, so better to put them all out of their misery.”

“Yes.” Jonathan swallowed hard. “Of course, my dear Count. M-my thoughts exactly.”

“Are you scared?” Dracula cupped Jonathan’s white cheek.

“N-no! Just don’t have much practice, is all. I’m sure I’ll get used to it!”

Dracula laughed harshly. “Look at you! Brave words, and you haven’t even killed them yet! Come, let us go, and drink.”

Instantly, Jonathan knew the plan. Dracula was a white wolf beside him with gleaming red eyes. He looked at him meaningfully, and then scampered off to go into hiding in some brush. Jonathan remained in his human form, and resolutely walked up to the cabin and banged on the door, hearing loud, ugly noises and sobbing from inside. He knew exactly what he was going to say.

“How can I help you?” A surly looking man answered the door gruffly, his coveralls stained with blood, and his fists curled threateningly.

“I- excuse me, sorry for the interruption, but I’m a local priest passing through the town, and I couldn’t help but hear strange noises coming from within. Is everything alright?” Only a priest could dress as nicely as himself, in those parts, Jonathan thought.

The farmer looked him up and down suspiciously. “You don’t look like no priest. I guess your kind has hours, just like us? Not always in the service of the lord, day and night. Why did you come hollering when it’s none of your concern, then? Gonna give me a bible?”

“No! Nothing of the sor-” Suddenly Jonathan was shoved aside as the white wolf from before came sprinting through the doorway and locked his jaw around the large man’s throat, snapping it in one go. Then he dove after the woman, crushing her head and killing the baby inside with a quick swipe of his claws. The two of them lay on the floor in pooling puddles of blood, limp like rag dolls. Not so much as a scream.

Jonathan saw Dracula materialize in front of him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, not a hair out of place. “I’ll take the woman. Drinking her might sicken you. You’ll have no problem with the man, though, I’m sure, since you know how unworthy a creature he was.” Wasting no time, he dove down and bit the woman’s neck, drinking her dry.

Jonathan reluctantly let his newfound fangs pierce the man’s burly neck - which was already broken for him and leaking blood, and drank his fill. Once they had cleaned up the blood, they stood up, ready to go, when a thought popped into Jonathan’s head. What about the bodies? What if no one found them?

Just then, however, they were greeted with a small, terrified figure standing at the door. It was a boy of about eleven or twelve, terrified out of his wits, and he had just borne witness to the killing. Our killing.

“V-Vlad...what do we do?” Jonathan’s voice quavered.

Dracula looked up, wiping his lips. “Oh, him? We kill him.”

“B-but...he’s just a boy. Surely if he ran, no one would believe him.”

“Mmm, you’d be surprised at what the people would believe, even from the mouth of a young boy.” Dracula took a moment to consider. “You know...I’ve tried to spare you the killing of women and children, but now I’m seeing that it’ll get you nowhere. You should kill him. I want you to do it.”

“M-me?” Jonathan squeaked, unable to comprehend, meanwhile the boy before him stood motionless in the doorway, unable to move.

“Quick! Before he runs. We could easily track him down, but we don’t want him drawing attention. Ach, I’ll capture him for you. No use waiting.” Dracula sighed, and in a millisecond - or a flash before Jonathan’s eyes - he had arrested the boy by the shoulders and slit his throat with a sharp fingernail, dragging him over into the corner of the room and inviting Jonathan to approach. The boy was still alive, dazed and with eyes glazed over, not even flinching at the pain as Harker reluctantly, with tears in his eyes, pressed his lips to the open wound and sucked the life out of the frail child. He was just like a fragile doll. Nothing to be scared of. He didn’t even blame him. His eyes had a strange sort of peace in them, in death. Was this what vampires truly felt?

Dracula let the drained child drop into Harker’s lap like a dead weight, and Jonathan bit back a startled cry. “Ugh, he stinks…” Was the first thing that came from his lips, in spite of himself. He held his nose.

“Poor brat must have pissed himself. Ah, no helping it.”

“Well, the least we can do is clean it up. And get rid of the bodies. Have you ever thought of that?” The child’s dead eyes stared up at him remorselessly. His face looked sleepy, no longer shocked. He was a very pretty child - just the kind that Mina would have adored - Jonathan thought sadly.

“Get rid of them? How come?”

“Well,” Jonathan started. “You wanted to get rid of the child, or teach me a lesson, but there’s no denying that it would have done us no good for him to live. Well, someone finds these bodies and it’s all for nothing. It’ll be the same. Our existence will be known, and next time they’ll be prepared. If superstition doesn’t eat them alive first.”

“Alright, fine. Now, how exactly do we get rid of them?”

“We could take them to the castle and dispose of them.”

“We couldn’t transport them, you know that.”

“Then we burn the place down. Everything in it. It’ll look like a sorry accident, not vampires.”

“Brilliant!” Dracula beamed.

“Find whatever alcohol they’ve got lying around. Judging by the man’s temperament, I’m sure there’s plenty.”

And so they left the house a giant bonfire in the middle of the hamlet, one that could be seen from the sky.

When they arrived within the castle, the two of them relaxed by a fire of their own - though they felt no chill - and said nothing. Perhaps Dracula had chosen a worthy companion. He could teach him many things, just as Dracula could teach him. It was an exchange of knowledge, just as of power.


	4. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucy chuckled once more. “Yes, you care for me, and I for you, in our own, twisted, distorted way. Can’t you see, my love? We are tainted.” There were tears on her face, but in her eyes, there was nothing. Almost abyss, with the faintest hint of starlight. She touched her cheek, and her fingers came away wet. “Even my tears are tainted.”
> 
> Possible TW for mentions of r*pe (it's not explicitly mentioned though) Also just dark themes, because this is your average vampire angst.

That night, Mina and Lucy - now both vampires - had retreated down into the basement to sleep. Mina had been keeping a coffin beneath her house for Lucy’s sake, hopeful for her to return to her from her rampaging in the shadows and resting in some filthy graveyard during the day. She was keeping a place for her in her house, and in her youthful, maidenly heart - though she was no longer a maiden.

Lucy nearly wept to hear Mina’s explanation for the velvet-lined coffin in the cellar, so deeply touched by Mina’s gesture of sentiment. She felt loved, which was something she hadn’t felt in quite a while. She had been waiting for her.

Of course, there was only one coffin available, so the two girls were going to have to share it. They didn’t mind, though. In fact, they lay in the cramped, velvet-lined space with their bodies flush against each other, arms locked around each other’s waists, one head resting on the other’s shoulder, legs intertwined. Just as dawn broke up above the cool, earthy cellar, the two of them dozed off to their shared dreamland, filled with faraway castles and magical beings and visions of one another on gilded clouds. 

At least, that was how their dreams began. Ever since Lucy had been turned, her dreams had been confused and mixed, with flashes of wonderland and paradise and beauty, and horrible thrills of bloodlust and broken bodies and mangled expressions and bloodcurdling screams. Those parts of the dreams weren’t unpleasant to her, but they were still mildly disturbing.

Mina, for the first time, let her mind explore the infinite darkness, tendrils of shadow reaching out to consume her corruptible soul, and in those dreams - which were not her nightmares - her claws tore through flesh, her fangs pierced and raked down perfect throats, mouth draining roaring pulses until the screams died, their vibrations ceasing. She leapt through the darkness, rushed between trees, lurked in the forest as a bloodstained and thickly furred wolf with exhilaration, and took flight as a winged devil as she streaked across the skies. She explored the misty graveyards and jumped out at any unwary passerby. She relished in their fear. It terrified her and excited her.

A sliver of light crept down the basement stairs and touched upon the coffin’s lid, and inside, the two of them groaned softly and held one another tight as visions of murder and entrails filled their shadowy minds. Never had Mina felt so much carnal emotion, and yet been so numb to her heart’s insistence. And Lucy, for the first time in what felt like decades, saw brief outlines of hope, of wonder, of happiness, amid a gory tragedy. Their dreams were conflicted, to say the least.

When the sun finally sank behind the mountains in the distance, the two of them roused, Lucy tipping open the lid of the coffin and helping her beloved out of its cosy depths with a pretty, alabaster hand. The two graceful, ghostly visions then ascended into the dimly-lit hallway of the Westenra house - Mina had been living in it with a coffin ready, and sleeping in Lucy’s bed, because she couldn’t bear to part with her memory.

They dressed in fresh, pale gowns and brushed out their darkened locks, powdered their already flawless complexions, and painted their lips blood red. The two of them looked nothing short of heavenly, with their supernatural beauty, and yet they also looked like elegant ghosts, gliding past the huge gothic windows and speaking in soft, hushed voices. However, their perfectly painted lips were almost violent with their brightness, shocking, to say the least. One would easily believe such rich, vibrant color to be that of real blood.

Since neither of them partook in eating human foods, and had to go hunt for their sustenance, the two of them transformed into great, majestic wolves once out of the house, and used the speed of such powerful bodies to easily reach the town.

Mina had lovely, sleek jet fur and emerald eyes, while Lucy had white fur and deep brown eyes, and the two of them decided that they would masquerade as lovely young women - their true external forms - instead of as beasts, since such a creature would seem out of place on the streets of london.

“Isn’t it strange, Mina?” Lucy laughed bitterly. “To transform into a monster such as a wolf is the releasing of the monster inside, of the inner truth. Are we not as beautiful and as savage as wolves, in truth? 

“I believe that, while we may appear human, and magnificent as humans, we are something lower than human, lesser, and crueler, in nature. It doesn’t matter how we think we may feel, or how we identify - we will forever be trapped into our horror and vileness, into the ugliness of our desires. 

“We are so base, that we have not even the strength to stand up to those desires! We are ruled by them, as all of the great philosophers and poets advise against, and as Jesus Christ himself once condemned as devilish, along with all of the poor, wicked, tortured creatures that subscribed to such behavior. 

“Shouldn’t we do the world a favor and just disappear, forever, into those woods outside that monster’s castle - you know the one of which I speak - and starve?”  
Mina frowned. “No, my dear, you must not speak in such ways. For I must admit that I disagree. And even if you don’t, it’s not good for you to say such things. I do care about you, after all.”

Lucy chuckled once more. “Yes, you care for me, and I for you, in our own, twisted, distorted way. Can’t you see, my love? We are tainted.” There were tears on her face, but in her eyes, there was nothing. Almost abyss, with the faintest hint of starlight. She touched her cheek, and her fingers came away wet. “Even my tears are tainted.”

Mina rushed forward and cupped her lover’s glistening cheeks, pressing their lips together and then throwing her arms around Lucy’s steady shoulders. They didn’t shake, not like they used to, when Mina would comfort her in her deep states of depression, when she was human. She was no longer that lively, volatile, whimsical girl that she had once been. It felt as though it might have been another lifetime, and it might as well be.

“Listen to me, love of my life. It doesn’t matter what the humans think and feel. No matter what you say, we are above them. I will show you, as you have shown me.”

“I just...I know i’ve done this many times before, but I don't think I can do this. Not with you. I can’t let you see that side of me, though you’ve heard of it before you ever saw me. I don’t think I ever want to drain a child’s life from their veins ever again. I can’t. But I know that eventually, what I feel right now won’t matter. My feelings aren’t even real - just ghosts of a dead girl that haven’t yet quit this world. It is inevitable that we become monsters. Just you watch me. I’ll be the first to go.” She smiled sadly.

“You don’t have to go after children, darling. You don’t have to take the lives of the innocent to sustain yourself. Tell me,” Mina fixed her with her striking, intelligent jade eyes. “is it wrong for us to go after the wicked souls, and purge them from this earth? What if we were doing humanity a service, instead of being simply a terror and a blight?”

Lucy closed her eyes and wiped away a single tear. “But don’t you see, Mina? Eventually, it won’t matter who we kill. We will have no control over it, and will go after whoever appeals to us the most. We are turning into monsters, anyways. What right do we have to decide who deserves to die?”

Mina’s expression morphed into one that Lucy had never seen before on her beloved’s face. It was almost gleeful, full of pure joy. So sweet a smile she wore, that the other woman almost stepped back in shock. “Oh, my love, you simply don’t understand. Not yet, but I will make you see. Allow me to open your eyes, my love, as you have for mine.” There was a childish bliss in her face, so pure, so innocent with a new discovery. 

She lowered her voice, as though she was telling a very important secret. “You see, my dear Lucy, I believe that our existence is one sanctioned by god. We have been  
blessed with freedom from painful, destructive human emotions, and given the power to take lives, because we are divine.” She breathed quietly, eyes full of wonder. 

“We are free. Free from regret, from doubt, from insanity. Our hearts are unhindered and thirst for blood, and our heads are clear. We are beautiful without our humanity. That is why our immortality has made us so alluring in appearance. It is not just in order to seduce our prey. It is to reflect what beauty exists on the inside.

“Do we not have a right to exist as much as any other creature? And does our superior hunting ability not make us masters of life? We are the animal kingdom at its very best, its peak, because we are the only creature that hunts humans. No, we are not even in the animal kingdom. We are much lovelier than that. 

“And it is our love that is especially divine, for it is unblemished by human insanity and emotion. We love each other purely and perfectly, and even our love for our prey is supreme and beautiful. A predator that excites in and feels adoration for the life that it extinguishes! For we have the power not only of death, but of eternal life. 

“We can save dying creatures from the brink of disappearance, and bring them not only back to health, but to a health and life superior to their previous existence. We can give birth to a new life. Come, Mina, and see. You don’t have to take the young ones, if you don’t want to. You can give them life!  
But first, we must feed, my darling. We must make haste, however. It would not do to be caught out here on the streets like this.”

Lucy still had a look of melancholy upon her face, but there was hope there, too. She allowed herself to smile. “I suppose you may be right, dear. After all, I have no choice but to believe you.” She dried her face with her sweet-smelling handkerchief. “I love you, you know that?”

Mina’s lips curved up slightly. “Oh, more than anything. Now let us hurry, my dear, away into the deep, dark night! So much excitement abounds in one evening, and I fear that we may have already lost much of it! The full moon is out, and us attractive vampire ladies are on the prowl. All the men and women in the world must watch their backs!” She giggled at her own morbid humor with satisfaction.

“Yes,” Lucy let herself laugh, too. “What formidable women are we.”

The two of them moved through the dimly-lit streets of London as rather large winged creatures - all the more easier to remain inconspicuous - mere flashes in the light of the street lamps, wings cutting so smoothly through the cool evening air that they hardly made a sound. One might’ve noticed that they were different from most others of their form in behavior, if they’d paid such small, harmless-appearing beasts such attention, which most did not. 

Their wings hardly beat, and they moved with intention, not fluttering aimlessly about in the air blindly like most bats did, screeching loudly for the purpose of echolocation. They made no noise, and moved swiftly and silently under the lanterns, eventually rising up to take greater cover above the ashen rooftops of England’s great city. 

Monsters disguising themselves in order to fit in among men and prey upon them - such a thing was nothing new. To mask oneself as something innocuous and unassuming was possibly the most effective method of catching one’s prey. One could also go about ensnaring one’s game by ensnaring it, baiting a devilish hook and seducing one’s kill into being captured. It was not always so simple as entertaining one’s sexual desires, though that was the easiest and most notorious method. 

Sometimes seduction was, in appearance, completely innocent, such as when the sweet, kind-eyed young Lucy Westenra took the form of a mother to lost children, and then turning that role on its head by taking the life from children instead of giving it. Other times, it involved money, or fame, or even love. 

Such tricks were well known to humans especially, for they had invented such an art. Vampires had simply adopted it to their advantage, as they were an evolved form of the human species. They simply had weaponized what humans specialized in against them, learned from them, originally being one of them, and had graduated from humanity to something that, Mina believed, was greater. They were everything that was strong about humans, but perfected, and minus everything that held the human race back from ultimate success.

You see, while humans believed they had triumphed over the world, simply by being loud and erecting their buildings and statues all over the world to show it, vampires not only lived in the shadows, but thrived. Humans, while having the most territory and influence, lived with a great divide between classes, where most of humanity lived in pain. Most did not live very happy lives, and suffered at the hands of other humans. 

Vampires were once humans, too, but had learned the ugly truth of their kin, and ascended. Because of this knowledge, a vast majority of vampires lived in peace and stability, even luxury, leeching off of the best of human society, and remaining uninvolved in gruesome human affairs. However, they had been chosen to ascend for their wisdom, and so had a duty that was ingrained into their soul and psyche. Every vampire was born anew knowing that their job was to balance out humanity, preying upon the rich and liberating the poor. It was good for them, too, for they got only the finest sustenance from preying upon the high-class, and by avoiding the blood of the sick and feeble, unless the sick and feeble held great and undeserved power. Then they would do their job. It was ideal. 

That was, until they stopped meddling. Why did they do it? Well, that was because, at a certain point, vampires received new instructions. They would leave human society alone, and would instead be gifted the power to turn humans into vampires, instead of simply being chosen at a certain age to transform. They would have to be careful with their decision, however, or the choice would eventually come back to bite them, setting off the balance of vampire society, and then the other vampires would come out of the shadows to punish their kin.

You see, part of the success of vampires was that they avoided each other, and only associated with the humans they had turned until the newborn vampire would eventually leave them, losing all emotion and human affection and disowning them as partners or parents. Often, even the oldest vampires had feelings of strange, inexplicable, supernatural love for the ones they had turned. Eventual rejection by their underlings was the greatest pain besides transformation that a vampire would ever know. But they would recover, and soon seek out another human to turn, in order to feel again. 

All vampires eventually desired to turn humans that they felt affection for - whether romantic or paternal or even platonic - in order to fill the gaping emptiness inside. There were two curses that were bestowed upon vampire kind upon transformation - curses that they were doomed to live forever with - that was hunger and thirst. Eternal, insatiable thirst for human blood was one of them, and the other was a hunger for companionship that was doomed to always end in heartbreak and rejection.  
Vampires that had once loved the ones that had turned them, and had rejected them, would eventually get a taste of their own medicine when they turned a human and were rejected by them in the end.

Vampires learned, eventually, to avoid contact with other humans - besides in the impersonal act of feeding - and became masters of their craft. But so long as they reproduced through turning humans, there would always be an abundance of bloodsuckers on the face of the earth. Bloodsuckers that humans could never hope to wipe out.

Lucy knew, deep in her heart, that eventually, Mina would leave her. Mina was innocent, however, of that knowledge, and believed happily that she would get to live with her beloved forever. Lucy knew, too, that when Mina spoke of turning a human child, she did not know the wrong there was in doing it.  
The child had little choice in the matter, and would be doomed to be forever subject to the vampire’s curse because of it. They would also never age, always remaining a child, and yet eventually they would leave their parental figures to hunt on their own. They could survive well enough, sure - perhaps even better than fully-grown vampires - but they would not be able to live as freely and blissfully as they could if they had been turned as adults. That was why such vampires hardly ever came into existence.

Plus, there was the fact that two vampires taking care of a newborn vampire could be messy, what with the newborn taking a liking only to the one that had physically turned them, and in most cases, rejecting the other. Also, the child would eventually reject the both of them regardless, and she did not want to see the pain on Mina’s face when she discovered that for herself. That was, if Mina didn’t leave her first.

Mina, on the other hand, thought of Lucy. She wondered why Lucy had chosen to feed off of children, instead of anyone else. It disturbed her, and yet she had faith that her beloved was not so monstrous as to do it out of a malice towards the young. Surely she had good intentions, if such a thing could be said about vampirism.  
She would surely ask her about that later, but not then. Maybe in a year, or even a couple. Now was far too early to be asking questions.

They soon arrived upon a quiet, cosy house at the end of a lightless cul-de-sac. The street lamps had gone out, and all was quiet. Most of the houses seemed old, shabby, and uninhabited, except for one, which had its lights off. The perfect prey.  
Once fluttering in through the open window in the lower floor, they searched the place for signs of life. Bottles of alcohol were strewn about the place, and it seemed to be lived in by only one individual - a man, most likely. Lucy didn’t ever want to steal anything from a child ever again, so she had made herself a promise to be careful about whose blood she drained.

Perhaps having a newly turned vampire around her to care about had awakened other emotions inside her. Specifically, guilt. That was not an emotion often awakened in vampires. Usually, they only felt affection for their underlings, and then moved on from that affection to the next. Sometimes, though, other emotions were triggered for that amount of time spent with their underling. And sometimes, it never went away.

The two of them flew out through the window through which they had entered the house, and decided to enter through the one that led into the bedroom. They had to transform into mist in order to fit through the crack in the window, since it was shut, but soon enough, they were inside, and reverted back to their natural, humanoid forms.

Their unsuspecting victim was a middle-aged man, lying in his nightgown and drawers on top of the thin blankets, snoring loudly, with his clothes and other belongings strewn across the floor. He lived messily and rather in a rather unappealing manner - especially to vampire philosophy - but his blood would be enough for one of them. Then, they would have to find another victim for the other to feed. Since this man seemed the easiest to kill without feeling guilt - since he was rather old and lived alone - Lucy would give him to Mina.

At first, the man struggled. He let out a startled yell as Mina’s fangs pierced his throat. Clearly, she understood that he was hers to take.

The two of them appeared like ravishing ghosts in the pale moonlight, dressed in pure white gowns, their long, lustrous hair streaming about their phantom bodies of supernatural strength, dazzling white fangs and bright eyes glittering devilishly. It seemed almost beautiful to Lucy, in a sad, poetic way. She had not been so deeply swayed in a long time, but watching her lover feed almost brought her a feeling of pride.

However, just as Mina dropped him to the floor, the cry of a baby was heard in the other room, awakened at the sound of commotion. Then, the dream was over  
The anguished scream drove a stake through Lucy’s cold, monster heart. Mina wiped her lips and looked up in horror. Lucy recognized the terrified look in her bright green eyes - it was the same one she had worn when she had first taken from a child.

She looked away to see the man bleeding out on the floor, still alive. He looked to be in great distress, but not from the physical pain or loss of blood. It was emotional pain. He was still alive 

“Please…” He begged in a rasping voice, reaching with the last of his strength to grip Mina’s ankle. It was surprisingly strong. “Please, at least spare my baby. I know you t-two are devils, but if you...ugh, h-have any pity inside your monstrous hearts...p-please...don’t kill my child.” Then, he collapsed, with his eyes open, and died right there, on the floor, never to move again.

There was a tremor in Mina’s voice when she began to speak. She still had her human emotions in her. Lucy could hardly imagine the pain she must have felt, no doubt many times as terrible as her own.

She looked at her with her wide, mortified eyes. “Oh, god...Lucy, what have we done?”

Lucy felt almost a human level of sickness. What have we done? What have we done?

The two of them returned to the manor that night completely wordless and defeated. Lucy hadn’t even bothered to go and feed herself. She had lost her appetite. If only Mina hadn’t come into her life, she wouldn’t have been troubled by this. However, now, it hurt her more than anything.

“Lucy,” Mina had uttered in a hoarse voice. “The baby. What are we going to do about the baby?” She seemed to be losing it, on the brink of going mad.

Suddenly, Mina’s intentions dawned on Lucy. “Mina, no! You can’t do it! We’d be better off leaving the child alone. You don’t know what bad things will happen if you do i-”

“But we can’t just leave his baby here. Not like this. It’s too cruel.” Mina’s eyes brimmed with real tears. When a vampire cried, they cried blood. But Mina had only just fed, and so there were still human things about her body. Lucy had never seen a vampire cry translucent tears before, or even ones of blood.

“Far less cruel than what you are suggesting.” Lucy insisted. “Please, Mina, don’t. Let’s just go.”

Eventually, she convinced the protesting girl, and the two of them left the place reluctantly. They’d almost considered taking the child to an orphanage, but better not to risk being exposed. Better not to get involved.

It was still quite a few hours until sunlight would pour over the horizon, and the two vampire women decided they would spend that monotonous time in the castle, in solitude. Mina went straight to the bedroom that she used to sleep in - Lucy’s old bedroom - and locked the door. Lucy, on the other hand, went to the library and opened a book, eyes scanning the words with little interest.

The hours ticked by, and finally, the two of them decided to retire, as the first fingers of dawn stretched over the hills and crept over the forest, bathing the conifers in a golden light. They shared a coffin, but they did not touch. Instead, they lay back to back, facing away from each other. The coffin was quite large - Mina had purchased it taking into consideration Lucy’s claustrophobia. 

However, Lucy wasn’t afraid of anything anymore, except for losing Mina. And now, she was afraid of her sins.  
It was very rarely in a vampire’s lifetime that one would feel guilt - more like never - and that was for a good reason. Human emotions would be the death of any creature of the night, which was why they hardly felt anything, after a time. Why the painful transition between humanity and fully-fledged vampirism existed was unknown, but it seemed unnecessary and painful, and the same with vampires feeling affection for ones they’d turned. Why did it exist? 

That being said, why did any emotion exist? Perhaps it vivified life and gave meaning to it. But what even was life’s meaning? Was it to feel, and nothing else? No, surely not. Any vampire knew the meaning of life well enough. It was not simply to survive, but to thrive. It seemed that emotion only held one back from thriving. Often, it even made you risk your survival. So why? Why did Lucy have to feel?

The truth was, she’d stopped feeding off of children the second the last of her emotions faded away. It was emotion that had made her kill them. Emotion was evil, she had finally decided, and when she felt her emotions leaving her, she believed that she would finally be free. However, that clearly was not the case.

Why had she stolen people’s children from them? Even she couldn’t say. Perhaps she had gone mad after being turned. Perhaps she was angry because her future was stolen from her - her future as a mother and as a wife. Maybe it was because she had lost her childhood innocence long ago, and the child in her had died with it. When she was very young, everything in her life had changed. Ever since then, people had only ever taken advantage of her or called her crazy. Some even called her a ‘hypersexual demon’, while she was still just a child. It wasn’t her fault. That was what the doctors had told her, but she hadn’t believed them. She hadn’t known what to believe.

All she wanted was a husband to trust, a safe, secure relationship, and children that she could raise right, that she could protect. But that future had been stolen from her. Dracula draining her life had brought back so many awful memories, so deeply triggering that every day was a living hell of dread and grief. When she was eventually turned, she felt so relieved to finally be left alone, and to no longer be his slave. But she could never forgive what he’d done to her, just as she couldn’t forgive what had been done to her long ago.

Still, no matter what had happened - no matter what pain she felt - it still couldn’t excuse those children’s lives she had stolen. She had told herself that she was taking them to a better place, where they couldn’t be hurt by the cold, cruel world. But she had only caused more pain. She was dirty.

And now, watching her sins be transferred over onto Mina - sweet, innocent Mina, her only friend in the world - she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t expect to have feelings again, but they came as sure as any human ones would. Sometimes, if a vampire’s heart strings were pulled on hard enough, it would start to beat again, for a time, and they would feel the emotion that they had felt in their past life, like a ghost haunting them. This one wouldn’t go away.

Mina didn’t know what to feel. She was still fully human when it came to her emotions, and they hadn’t even started to fade. Of course, she had only just been turned. She had gotten carried away with her philosophy, and with her joy of being able to spend eternity with her Lucy. She had been confused. She didn’t want to be a vampire anymore. The blood she had tasted hadn’t even tasted good. Not at all like it had when she had drank Lucy’s blood. It made her feel foul and unclean. She felt like a monster.

She stared blankly at the velvet lining of the coffin, feeling quite cramped and uncomfortable. She would have to get herself another coffin to sleep in. Not because she was angry with Lucy, though. It was her fault entirely. She knew that. Suddenly, something dreadful dawned on her. What if Lucy blamed herself? 

Sure, it was Lucy that had turned her into a vampire, but it had also been Mina’s choice. She had practically begged her to do it. How was that in any way her fault?  
Well, Lucy had been draining her since before she even asked to be turned, but she hadn’t given her her blood, so she wouldn’t become a vampire because of that. 

Besides. Lucy had been confused at the time. She couldn’t be held responsible for her actions. It was all Dracula’s fault. She finally came to her conclusion. She and Lucy would have to hunt down Dracula and demand he explain himself to them. And then, they would kill him. That seemed the only option.

Lucy, on the other hand, worried not only about the changes that would develop in Mina, but also about her eventually leaving her and forgetting about her. What if she hated her right now, and left her before she even lost her emotions? Then it would be all her fault. 

She wanted to lose her emotions with Mina, together, in her ideal world. But she had waited too long, and now she would have to watch Mina leave her all alone. The idea filled her veins with ice, and her heart with dread. It made her feel sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan to continue this, but I just got so inspired by Mina and Lucy's characters that I couldn't end their story there. 
> 
> I might write another chapter where the girls meet Jonathan and Dracula at a masquerade, just because I love the idea and got inspired by edgar allan poe. I'm a little tired though so I might focus on other works instead
> 
> (Yes, I know a lot of my writing is quite dark and angsty. I'll try to write other/lighter themes in later works.)

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @gathererofdust


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